Under My Thumb
by Nidoran Duran
Summary: Hermione wants Pansy to admit she loves her, Pansy says it's just casual. Hermione lets her fingers get a straight answer.


My old account got torn down, so this is a legit repost, not a stolen story. This one came about as an experiment I was trying out in terms of story generation; threw a bunch of characters and kinks together and pulled out Hermione, Pansy, absurd dirty talk. Not entirely in character and the whole Rolling Stones thing having zero canon basis, but it's an old fic I'm still a little fond of. Credit or the cribbed lyrics to The Rolling Stones.

Pansy lay on the bed in the strange room she stumbled upon, her hook-up room, waiting for Hermi-

No. That wasn't the right word. She wasn't waiting for Hermione. That would imply she loved Hermione, or even liked her. She didn't. The mudblood was merely a distraction, and outlet. The sole purpose of their little liaisons was release, and if she could find any other lesbian in the school who was willing, she would have dropped Hermione like a bag of rocks. She wasn't waiting for Hermione, she was waiting for her orgasm. That was it.

Just physical pleasure. To have that bushy-haired brainiac's incredibly skilled tongue circling slowly along her nipple as fingers slipped into her, seemingly guided by divine interv-

Just physical pleasure.

And she was late. The mudblood's sole task was to be in the secluded bedroom only known to her off in some corner of the castle. That was it. She was to be there and eat her out, and somehow she didn't manage to even accomplish that? What a rip-off. Maybe if she tied down Daphne Greengrass and forced her into submission she'd have a better lover to-

No! Not lover! Why did she keep using those words? She was a fuck buddy, and even "buddy" was a stretch. Fuck toy, really. Hermione would always use words like love, ask why Pansy refused to say the words, admit they were girlfriends. It was a game, something to make it a little easier for Pansy to justify fucking a mudblood.

A game. She was toying with Hermione. It was all just an elaborate prank, the punchline every time being an orgasm and the words "I love you," sighed by the sappy mudblood.

But then why was she insulting Hermione so much less? And for that matter, why was she calling her Hermione in lieu of all the wonderful names she and Draco had five years to come up with?

She didn't have time to think on it very much, because Hermione walked in at long last, wrapped in the invisibility cloak she regularly stole from Harry to meet Pansy. She smiled, the candlelight making her hair seem lighter, framing her face so she looked like an angel as she shut the door behind her. Pansy lay naked on the bed before her, looking bored and uninterested .Hermione would change that rather fast. She let the right shoulder slip out, revealing it bare, and as much as she tried to hide it, Pansy's interest was piqued. Her other shoulder came next, her arms pressing together as a little more slid, revealing her modest cleavage.

Pansy sighed as she looked at the dreamily-lit Gryffindor, her resolve bucking for a moment as her mouth watered. She pulled herself back, though, and her face hardened again.

Next came her leg out from the fold within the cloak. Her long, silky leg, leading up to that dripping prize that Pansy was going to love going to-dammit, she needed to get a hold of herself. It was hard though, as more of the cloak faded and revealed through little peeks at a time her body before it fell to the floor, revealing that she was, indeed, totally naked. And had been through her entire walk through Hogwarts. As Pansy watched Granger literally dripping with anticipation, she wondered if there was a trail from the dorm to their secret retreat.

Hermione was unusually forceful, slipping onto the bed quickly and planting kisses on her folds immediately. Pansy squirmed and moaned in shock and pleasure. "W-what are you doing?"

Ending her welcome with a long lick up her slit and then a kiss on her clitoris, Hermione smiled up at Pansy. "You've left me hanging for months. You can't even admit you care about me, that we're girlfriends, and I'm tired of it. Tonight, I'm either going to force the truth out of you, or I'm never coming back."

Pansy let out a whimper. She didn't want Hermione to leave, didn't want this to end. It felt too good, the release too incredible. Granger may have been a mudblood, but she knew exactly what she was doing, and she'd miss that. And only that. Not Granger as a person.

She let out another one as Hermione began to crawl up her body, little kisses falling every which way as her hands trailed behind her, the tips of her fingers gliding up Pansy's thighs, running in little circles. Her skin was so sensitive to touch that Hermione's motions alone could have satisfied her if it continued through the night. When finally the kisses reached her neck, they were frantic, rapid, her lips hitting every inch of flesh within her reach. Pansy's scent was intoxicating and Hermione couldn't take any more, couldn't let the pretense of gentle, tender lovemaking continue as she grasped her hips tightly and pressed their bodies together tightly.

The fingers began to stray across Pansy's body, still firm in their grasp, as the kisses moved upward again. The hands came with them, latching onto Pansy's breasts, aggressively kneading the flesh, making Pansy moan as the lips came up to meet hers.

She wanted to fight it, wanted to get it through Granger's stupid mudblood skull that there was nothing between them, that a kiss was pointless, that this wasn't what-

She couldn't resist, though. Hermione's lips seized hers and she just couldn't fight it. Her tense body eased up as she wrapped her arms around Hermione-instinct, nothing more-and moaned into her mouth, counter-intuitive as that was. Hermione's body was hot against hers, radiating warmth as their flesh met as their lips did. A tongue slipped into her mouth and her only response was to return the favor as they shared a private dance where nobody could ever see.

All of her aggression melted away under Hermione's touch, and just as she seemed to be enjoying it-as much as she could enjoy this-Hermione pulled away with a devilish smile, repositioning herself so that she stay lay atop her, but she had a better angle, freeing up their lower regions.

Hermione cupped Pansy's mound, slipping a finger in just a bit. "You're going to say it by the end of the night, Pans, just get it over with."

Did the mudblood actually call her Pans? Oh, that was it. No orgasm was worth-

"Yes!" she cried out involuntarily as Hermione's fingers plunged into her. She closed her eyes tightly and felt the pleasure radiating through her of the fingers exploring her, knowing just where inside her fold would make her squirm, using it to her advantage, manipulating her. Pansy didn't expect such dirty tactics from Miss Goody Two Shoes, and if anything, she had to say she was impressed. And elated. The fingers were certainly providing pleasure in spades as she did, indeed, begin to squirm.

When her eyes opened, Hermione's face hung dangerously close to her, just out of her reach, where if she would only come down another inch, they could kiss. But no, she tortured Pansy, deprived her of the kiss, and Pansy wondered why she was so upset about this. It's not like she wanted to kiss Granger.

"Under my thumb," Granger whispered in an oddly husky voice, "The girl who once had me down. Under my thumb, the girl who once pushed me around."

What was she on about now? Some strange muggle thing, maybe. Stupid Granger, always on these stupid-

Pansy shuddered again, her concentration breaking as the fingers slipped deeper inside her, sending harder, more intense sensations through her body as she began to grow restless. Granger was teasing her, taunting her with pleasure and bringing her to the brink. The throaty words, strange as they were, seemed musical and only added to the strange feelings boiling up inside her. She was trapped, helpless, totally unable to do anything as Hermione utterly dominated her, something even with their regular visits never happened.

"Down to me, the change has come," she continued, "she's under my thumb. Ain't it right, babe?"

A low whimper escaped Pansy's lips as she squirmed. This was a game to her, and for once it was Pansy on the receiving end. Hermione's spare hand grasped her face, brushing her bangs out of her eyes and staring deeply into them. It made Pansy's legs give out and made her thankful she was lying down.

"Under my thumb, the squirming dog who's just had her day."

Stupid Granger, playing this game with her, with her stupid poem or whatever muggle bullshit she was going off about. She was only there for the pleasure, driven by the human need for physical release, driven by lust, to feel the fingers inside her, to feel the shivers shoot up her spine, to hear Granger's stupid husky poetry, to taste her sweet lips, to lose herself in those deep brown eyes...it wasn't sensation, it was Hermione.

"I-I..." Pansy started, choking on the words as they came up instead of the bile that should have at the thought of saying those words. She closed her eyes tightly as the words stopped from Hermione's mouth. When she opened them again, there seemed to be a certain radiance about her. Her bushy hair framed her beautifully, and yet some strange light from somewhere cast a glow on her face. Damn it, she looked beautiful.

The fingers didn't stop, even as the lyrics did, and the increasing pressure as Hermione's techniques grew more refined, more intense, bringing her closer to the brink of absolute bliss, it slicked her throat up, making the words easier to come out. The admission didn't hurt as much if she had pleasure to fall back on.

"I love you, Hermione." They didn't hurt. There was no shame like she thought there would be, no pain. They came out, lingering on the air as Hermione's face softened, her smile growing less devilish, showing glee instead of smugness. She won, Pansy lost, and it felt strangely good to finally admit.

"Under my thumb, a girl who has just changed her ways." Finishing the verse on a strangely appropriate note, Hermione leaned in, her lips going for Pansy's harder than ever before, and this time, she didn't even pretend to not like it.

Her hands ran through the unkempt brown hair as lust gave way to desire. Real desire. Not that animalistic stuff that people mistake lust for, but legitimate desire. Intimacy. The dimension their meetings that always hung around, neglected, waiting on Pansy's approval. All this time, Hermione poured her heart out, and now Pansy had finally let her in, and she had a lot to make up for. She pulled Hermione's head up and away from her before leaning forward and kissing her neck frantically, something she always enjoyed Hermione doing, returning a favor long owed.

Hermione moaned as Pansy finally responded, showing the affection she longed for. She worked her fingers faster inside the black-haired girl, moaning her name as she felt the slick, wet pussy react positively to her treatment, egging her on, making her go faster and harder and deeper, rewarding Pansy for finally admitting it. She was tired of the game, tired of the drama and worries she was wasting her time with the Slytherin, but there was no more doubt.

Pansy moaned into Hermione's neck, going at it far more furiously than Hermione ever did to her's, as she felt everything swell up inside her. She could feel it coming, and it was a hard one. She began to grind against Hermione's body as it struck, sending screams into the Gryffindor's neck as her juices hit like never before, all the while the fingers continuing to work inside her. Her body burned and shivered as the words came out again, a mantra of increasingly maddened cries of the same sentence like therapy, as though each time just brought her pleasure to new heights.

"I love you." They kept repeating as she rode out her orgasm, punctuated by moans and cries and shudders as Hermione's fingers finally withdrew from her vagina and she shut her up by repositioning herself and kissing her again. The words continued through their kiss in her mind as each time it brought her joy to hear them, to just have come out and admit it.

When finally things slowed down, they lay and cuddled. Even after a long, intense night, they never did anything remotely like cuddling. But there they were, with many hours left to go but time still running by, cuddling.

"Under my thumb," Hermione chuckled, "She's the sweetest pet in the world." A smile crossed her face and one began to break Pansy's expression as well.

"Hermione, I have only one demand." Pansy stroked Hermione's hair lightly as their faces remained so close to each other that their noses almost touched.

"What is it?"

"Can you cut the poetry?"

They shared a quick laugh, and it made Pansy feel so much better to be close to her like this.

"Sure. My turn for a demand."

"What?"

"Well, I do believe I got you off just now."

Pansy didn't say another word as she began to slither down Hermione's body, her tongue dragging along as she set out to please her girlfriend.s 


End file.
